Suddenly Nick spoke in a different tone, a tone that was tense without vibrating.  “It doesn’t matter how you put it.  The truth remains.  You didn’t love her then.  If you had loved her, you must have been ready—­as I was ready—­to make the final sacrifice.  But you were not ready.  You hung back.  You let me take the place which only a man who cared enough to protect her to the uttermost could have taken.  You let me do this thing, and I did it.  I brought her through untouched.  I kept her—­night and day I kept her—­from harm of any sort.  And she has been my first care ever since.  You won’t believe this, I daresay, but it’s true.  And—­mark this well—­I will only let her go to the man who will make her happy.  Once I meant to be that man.  You don’t suppose, do you, that I brought her safe through hell just for the pleasure of seeing her marry another fellow?  But it’s all the same now what I did it for.  I’ve been knocked out of the running.”  His eyelids suddenly quivered as if at a blow.  “It doesn’t matter to you how.  It wasn’t because she fancied any one else.  She hadn’t begun to think of you in those days.  I let her go, never mind why.  I let her go, but she is still in my keeping, and will be till she is the actual property of another man—­yes, and after that too.  I saved her, remember.  I won the right of guardianship over her.  So be careful what you do.  Marry her if you love her.  But if you don’t, leave her alone.  She shall be no man’s second best.  That I swear.”

He ceased abruptly.  His yellow face was full of passion.  His hand was clenched upon the sofa-cushion.  The whole body of the man seemed to thrill and quiver with electric force.

And then in a moment it all passed.  As at the touching of a spring his muscles relaxed.  The naked passion was veiled again—­the old mask of banter replaced.

He stretched out his hand to the man who had sat in silence and listened to that one fierce outburst of a force which till then had contained itself.

“I speak as a fool,” he said lightly.  “Nothing new for me, you’ll say.  But just for my satisfaction—­because she hates me so—­put your hand in mine and swear you will seek her happiness before everything else in the world.  I shall never trouble you again after this fashion.  I have spoken.”

Blake sat for several seconds without speaking.  Then, as if impelled thereto, he leaned slowly forward and laid his hand in Nick’s.  He seemed to have something to say, but it did not come.

Nick waited.

“I swear,” Blake said at length.

His voice was low, and he did not attempt to look Nick in the face, but he obviously meant what he said.

And Nick seemed to be satisfied.  In less than five seconds, he had tossed the matter carelessly aside as one having no further concern in it.  But the memory of that interview was as a searing flame to Blake’s soul for long after.

For he knew that the man from whom Muriel had sought his protection was more worthy of her than he, and his heart cried bitter shame upon him for that knowledge.